


Fall Into Your Sunlight

by WindySuspirations



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Cullen Smut, Cullen-feels, Cullenlingus, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Just a little angst, One Shot, Post-Trespasser, a little self-indulgent happiness thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2016-04-17
Packaged: 2018-06-02 22:31:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6585190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WindySuspirations/pseuds/WindySuspirations
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He looks down into her sleepy blue-green eyes and sees his love reflected back. It shines brighter than the sun or any star in the sky. He swallows thickly, emotion clogging his throat.  The moisture wells up in his eyes and he doesn’t even try to suppress it.</p><p>It’s what this woman does to him. She makes and unmakes him with a single glance.</p><p>Set post-Trespasser, this is a short one-shot full of Cullen-feels and some Cullen-smut. Not much else going on here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fall Into Your Sunlight

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by this music video by Martini-September: [Shattered](https://youtu.be/Uy6JBtSlkew)
> 
>  He's a broken man at the beginning of the game. He is struggling with his lyrium addiction and struggling with who he is. It takes the love of his Inquisitor and her support to make him realize that he can be more than the shattered Templar from Kinloch Hold, more than the angry Knight-Captain he became in Kirkwall. 
> 
>  Tell me what you think in the comments! Comments and kudos warm my little writer's heart!
> 
> Edited 9/6/2017 for Cullen Appreciation Week. I reworked some of the wording. I am pretty happy with it, even if it may kinda suck because I am pretty much a no-talent clod.

Wispy white clouds dot the cerulean vault of the the summer sky and gentle zephyrs skate across the vast stretches of the sandy beach, cooling a day that might otherwise have been unpleasantly hot. He lies upon a blanket spread just a few feet away from the gently rolling surf coming in from the northwest, from Kirkwall and points farther distant. Propped up on his elbows, he watches the woman playing in the waves.

Just the sight of her makes his heart skip a beat, and despite the four years they’ve been together, two of them spent as husband and wife, he still can’t believe that she loves him. She loves _him,_ a broken down ex-Templar, with a dark past, a lyrium addiction, and no title or lands to his name. He doesn’t deserve her. And, yet, he is glad she is here with him; he can’t live without her — he’s such a selfish bastard. If he were any kind of decent man, he would have let her go long ago.

Her slim form dances in the waves, the sea spray dampening the long, curling skeins of black hair tumbling down her back and her skin glows in the sunlight glimmering off the gentle swells as she cavorts in the froth. Her natural grace has not been affected at all by her missing arm. If anything, it’s made her even more lithe and poised.

Not that any of it matters to him. No. Her beauty transcends the physical. Her outward loveliness is merely a reflection of the state of her soul, where her true beauty lies. He closes his eyes and sends up a silent prayer.

Thank the Maker she is his.

The musical tones of her voice calling to him bring him out of his woolgathering.

“Cullen! Come join me!” She’s turned toward him, a sea goddess come from the depths to bewitch him. The sea comes to just above her pubis, leaving the generous swell of her hips and her full breasts tipped with pink nipples bare to his gaze.

Andraste preserve him, how he loves this woman. How he _wants_ her — the woman who taught him how to feel joy again.

He doesn’t need any coaxing as he rises and strips off the loose pants he wears. Naked, and already half-erect, he strides into the surf. As he’s wading out to her, she giggles and starts backing away from him, crooking her index finger at him.

He growls deep in his chest and stalks meaningfully toward her. She turns and dives beneath the waves, her sleek head popping up, seal-dark, a few feet away, where the water is deeper. Her girlish laughter rings out to him on the wind. He raises a brow and follows her.

She splashes him playfully, and he retaliates with a chuckle. This begins a short splash-fight that ends with her in his arms, her legs wrapped around his waist. His mouth crashes down on hers, and he is lost in the taste of her, her scent mingled with the tangy smell of the sea.

His tongue eagerly slips into her mouth to taste more deeply of her while his hands cup her ass, squeezing and pressing her firmly against his erection. He feels her hand gripping the hair on the back of his head as she grinds herself against him.

“Cullen,” she whispers against his mouth.

He loves the sound of his name spilling from her lips, especially when she is breathless with wanting him. He leans back so that he can look into her aqua eyes, glinting like jewels in the dying light of the day.

“My beauty, my love,” he says as he hooks one arm under her ass and lifts her up easily, water streaming between their bodies. “Throw your legs over my shoulders,” he instructs her, his voice a rough growl. Nimbly, she does as he asks. “Yes, just like that.”

“What are you…oh, Maker,” she gasps when he thrusts his face into her quim, his mouth surrounding and sucking at her clit.  He grips her ass, one hand on each cheek, keeping her supported and balanced as he worships her, thrilling at her every moan and twitch.

He wants to show her how much he loves her, how fucking grateful he is for her. He has never been good with words; this is the only way he knows how. He licks and nibbles at her pearl, the delicious taste of her mingling with that of the sea water. He has never tasted anything so heavenly; she is his ambrosia, his ultimate confection.

“Oh Cullen,” she cries out, and he can tell she is close from the way her abdomen stiffens and trembles. His mouth works faster on her, sucking and biting. Licking and kissing. He wants to feel her come apart around him, needs it, has to have it.

Now.

She shudders above him, arching her back as she comes, legs trembling on either side of his head. He reaches up and strokes her lower back as she slumps against him, completely spent. He presses kisses on her still heaving abdomen, murmuring words of everything and nothing against her as he bathes in the light of her climax.

Then she is shifting in his arms, and he looks up at her to find a wanton grin on her rosy red lips.  She tosses her head back, sending her black curls flying and laughs a deep throated, sexy laugh that goes straight to his cock, which is standing rigid and ready beneath the waves.

Laying her hand on his shoulder, she unhooks her legs and slides down his body. He trembles as her erect nipples and her still-dripping cunt scrape against the skin of his chest and stomach on the way down.

Her eyes lock with his as she very deliberately reaches down and closes her fingers around his member. She gives him a couple of strokes before positioning him at her entrance. She gives him another saucy grin and slides herself slowly down on top of him.

His eyes shut and he groans as he feels her walls close around him, so tight, so warm.  “Maker, Evie, I d-don’t think I’m going to last.”

Her legs wrap tighter around him and as she wraps her arm around his neck, she leans in close to his ear and whispers “Then don’t.”  Her soft breath in his ear makes him shiver as his arms tighten around her. Sweet Andraste, the things she _does_ to him.

She leans back in his arms and undulates her hips against him once, twice before her cunt ripples around his cock. Her muscular walls massage him up and down, squeezing, milking, and his control shatters.

“F-fuck!” he shouts as spills himself inside her. Oh, Maker above. His head is spinning madly, dizzyingly, and his heart is tripping over itself trying to climb out of his chest. He hugs her close to him, kissing the soft skin of her throat as he comes down from his high.

“Maker’s breath, woman, that was incredible,” he whispers, still breathing hard. He raises one hand to cup her cheek as he looks at her. “I love you. More than I can ever say.”

She just smiles at him and cups his cheek in return. “I know.”

He looks down into her sleepy blue-green eyes and sees his love reflected back. It shines brighter than the sun or any star in the sky. He swallows thickly, emotion clogging his throat.  The moisture wells up in his eyes, and he doesn’t even try to suppress it.

It’s what this woman does to him. She makes and unmakes him with a single glance.

She reaches up and blots away a tear from the corner of one eye before it can fall and kisses his lips. Unlike the hungry kisses of moments ago, this one is sweet and tender. Warmth flows from her lips through his and down into his chest where it coalesces into a healing balm that soothes his raw emotions like nothing else can

“Let’s go home,” she says.

He nods once and clears his throat. “Let’s go home,” he agrees.

He carries her out of the water and back to their blanket, where they dry each other off and gather their things. Then, holding hands, they stroll up the beach to where their small cottage stands amid the sand dunes and tufts of seagrass.

A big mabari bounds up the beach toward them, tongue lolling, and they pause to let him catch up with them before continuing together toward the small house.

 ~Fin~

 


End file.
